Love and Murder
by KELZTASTiC
Summary: Written with Helkauiel. Movie version with romance thrown in. IchabodOC, BromOC.
1. Introductions

**A/N: Me and my fellow fanfic lover Mary (helkauiel) wrote this. It's exciting. The movie version people.**

A knock sounded at the door of the Van Tassel household.

"Krista, will you get that?" called Mr. Van Tassel, breaking his in-depth conversation with the Magistrate.

"Yes, sir!" she called in return, putting down the tray of drinks she was carrying.

"Excuse me." She apologized as she nearly collided with a guest. She hurriedly crossed the room to the front door, smoothing her now-mussed blonde curls as she went along. She checked her face in the parlor mirror for a split second, and then threw open the door.

"I'm very sorry, sir, I did not mean to keep you –" She stopped in mid-sentence.

It was a man that she had never seen before, which was a rarity in Sleepy Hollow, where she saw the same faces at the same time every day. He was average height (a good deal taller than her short stature of 5'2"), with piercing black eyes and tousled hair of the same striking shade. His complexion was pallid, making him appear somewhat ghostly. He was dressed well in a tailored black suit, and he was holding a large black leather suitcase in one hand.

She thought he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

"– Waiting." She finished, regaining her composure, "Are you here for Master Van Tassel's party?"

"I'm afraid I am here on other matters." He said in a soft voice, "Can you lead me in the direction of your master?"

"Of course. Please come inside." She opened the door wider to let him step into the house, "Can I take your coat for you?"

She reached forward, but he held up a hand, "It's fine, miss…"

"Krista." She filled in.

"Krista." He repeated, and gave her a smile. Her heart fluttered slightly.

"Oh!" she suddenly remembered her purpose, "Please follow me."

She navigated through the crowded parlor until she reached the corner of the room, where her master's daughter, Katrina, was playing a game with some of the men of the village. Katrina, blind-folded, stood in the center of the circle of men. She turned herself round and round, until she stopped and grabbed the newcomer's face.

Katrina's face screwed up in thought, "Theodore?"

"No, I am a stranger." The man replied.

"Well, take this as a welcome gesture to Sleepy Hollow then." Katrina kissed the man on the cheek, and took off her blind-fold.

A look passed between the two of their faces, causing Krista's heart to sink far into her chest. Her thoughts were interrupted by Brom, a man who admired Katrina, pushing forward through the gaggle of men. He had long brown hair and eyes of an amber brown; he was tanned and muscular; many girls in the village wished to give him their heart, but his was firmly set on Katrina Van Tassel.

"And what's your name, stranger?" he demanded.

"I have not yet said it." The man replied curtly.

"You have a lot of nerve." Brom said tensely, stepping closer to the man.

Master Van Tassel then entered, his wife in tow, "Brom, this is no way to treat a guest." He turned to the newcomer, "I am Baltus Van Tassel. And who, exactly, are you?"

"Constable Ichabod Crane of New York City." The man replied, showing Baltus a signed document, "I am here to investigate the recent murders in this town."

The entire room fell silent, expectantly waiting for Baltus's answer.

"Ah, I see." Baltus said, taking the document from Ichabod, "Well, shall we go into my study to discuss this matter more in detail?"

Ichabod nodded, and followed Baltus to the back of the house. The guests went back to their chattering as if the incident never occurred. Krista noticed the Magistrate, town doctor, notary, and Reverend all follow her master into the same room.

"You shouldn't be instigating these fights, Brom." Katrina scolded him, annoyed, "Why give this man a terrible first impression?"

"I'm sorry." Brom mumbled, "Won't happen again, Katrina."

Krista rolled her eyes. It was quite obvious that he didn't mean it, but he was saying it to appease Katrina's wrath.

Someone tapped her shoulder, and she swiveled around to find a society woman standing behind her, clothed in a dress of crimson. She had chestnut-brown locks tied up in a loose bun, and eyes of the deepest blue.

"May I have a drink?" she asked.

"Of course, ma'am." Krista replied, curtsying quickly and running over to where she had left her tray. She handed the woman a glass of wine.

"Thank you." The woman swigged it. The two stood there in silence for a moment, and finally the woman said, sipping her drink, "I saw you sizing up the stranger when he walked in. He doesn't seem your type, Krista."

"He seems like he is a good man, Margot." Krista said crossly to her friend of more than half her seventeen years of life, "He is here to put an end to the madness going on in this place. I hope he catches that dreadful killer."

"More like, you hope he catches you in the process." Margot said, handing her the empty glass, "Give me another."

Margot and Krista had basically grown up together. When the Van Tassels had come into money 16 years ago, Margot had been forced into being acquaintances with Katrina in hope of her family gaining some money in return for the friendship. Krista was taken in by the Van Tassels 8 years later, after her parents passed away. She met Margot and the two had forged a bond, but one they had to keep private. In those days, maids and society did not mix.

"Margot, what's the matter with you?" Krista was concerned, "You're not a drinker."

"Well, I may as well be now. Maybe if I get drunk enough, I can go dance on the dining room table in just my petticoats. But he still wouldn't notice." She said sourly.

Margot was one of those girls infatuated with Brom.

"I daresay, I think he would notice _that_." Krista said, stifling a laugh.

"Alright, I exaggerate." The brunette admitted, "But, you do not deny that you are interested in the stranger." Her words began to slur together.

"Sadly, yes." Krista said, blue (almost nearly grey) eyes despondent, "But Katrina has already sunk her manicured claws into him with just that quick kiss."

"Oh, come now. If he doesn't notice you, he obviously doesn't know what he's missing." Margot said as she furtively grabbed another glass of wine from the tray.

"I know, I know." Krista said, "But he is a man from the city, and I'm a nobody with nothing to her name."

"He seems above that ridiculous stereotype. Talk with him; get him to notice you." Margot advised, beginning to feel somewhat light-headed from the liquor.

Krista frowned at her friend, "You are drunk. Completely drunk."

"No I am not." Margot protested, swaying where she stood. She nearly fell over when she stepped forward.

"This party is over for you, miss." Krista said, slipping back into her maid way of speaking, "Let me find you an escort."

"Fine." Margot folded her arms across her chest, sulking.

Krista searched the room for an able-bodied man who wouldn't take advantage of Margot's vulnerable state. She finally chose Brom. Brom and Margot became friends because of their mutual friendship with Katrina. Margot eventually fell head-over-heels for him.

"Mr. Van Brunt?" Krista called.

He turned to face her, "Yes?"

"I'm afraid Miss Van Dienn has had perhaps one too many drinks, and I'm worried that she may have a difficult time getting back home." Krista explained.

"I see. Well, I will be more than happy to escort Miss Van Dienn back to her residence. Thank you, Krista." He said, giving her a little bow. Brom was one of the very few people who knew about Margot and Krista's friendship.

Krista smiled to herself as she saw him offer Margot his arm. Margot took it, looking positively delighted. She locked eyes with Krista, and gave her a wave of farewell. Krista nodded, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The pair left the house.

Krista made her way through the crowd to the back of the house, where the men still were. As she reached the door, it opened, revealing Baltus and a very shaken-looking Ichabod.

"It appears as if you're a mind-reader, Krista." Baltus said, "Can you take Constable Crane to the spare room upstairs? He will be staying there until he finds it necessary to leave Sleepy Hollow."

"Yes, sir." She said, "Come with me, Mr. Crane."

"Yes, th-thank you." He stumbled over his words.

As the two ascended the staircase, Krista asked quietly, "Mr. Crane, are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Funny you should mention ghosts." He said with a slight shudder, "How much do you know of the Headless Horseman?"

"I've heard of him." Krista said thoughtfully, "The tale seems a bit far-fetched to me, but with all the recent evidence, I've begun to believe more and more…"

At her pause, she glanced over at him. He was staring at her intently, making her feel uncomfortable. She blushed immediately, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken my mind like that. It was not my place."

"No, you should always speak your mind. Nothing would ever get done if people kept things to themselves." He said, "I was just waiting for you to say more. I value your opinion."

"You…do?" Krista asked. She was surprised and flattered. Being a maid, no one ever really had an intimate conversation with her, with the exception of Margot.

"Of course. You seem like an intelligent young woman, Krista." He said.

"Oh, I am not at all intelligent. I am limited to the books my master keeps in the house." She said, trying to be modest, "I am quite lucky he allows me to read and write. Most servants aren't allowed to have such luxury."

"So, Mr. Van Tassel is good to you, then?"

"Oh yes, very!" Krista nodded vehemently, "He took me in when I had no one. When my parents left this world, I –" She stopped, realizing what was tumbling out of her mouth, "I…fear I am babbling. I don't know what has come over me. I am never this talkative. Forgive me."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for. I can relate. My parents died when I was young. Well, I never knew my father well. He…wasn't around much. I had my mother, mostly. I still think about her from time to time." Ichabod looked down at his hands for a moment.

When she glanced down curiously, he clenched his fist so that she couldn't see, "I apologize if I seem too forward, as well. I am socially inept sometimes."

"Oh, not at all, Mr. Crane. You do not strike me that way." She saw the spare room door a few feet away, "Here is your room."

She opened the door and let him go inside before entering herself, "I hope it is to your liking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be getting back to the party. The guests will be needing their drinks." She then turned to go.

She felt a strong hand grab her arm, and looked at him over her shoulder, "Is there something else you require?"

"Well…I…" He opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head, "Never mind. I would just like to thank you for your kindness. Will I see you soon?"

"Yes, at breakfast. I live here, actually. My room is further down the hall. If you ever require anything at any time, please don't hesitate to find me. It's my job to serve you, Mr. Crane." She said, and curtsied, "Have a pleasant night."

"And a good night to you." He bowed.

Krista left the room, and closed the door behind her. She slumped to the floor, resisting the urge to bang her head repeatedly into the hard oak. Why was she so talkative? He probably thought she was strange! Why did she tell him about her parents? He probably thought she was trying to get pity out of him! And why the hell did she tell him where her room was?! He probably thought she was a common whore!


	2. Morning

**A/N: I like Margot's drunkness. It makes me giggle. I don't own some of these characters.**

_Meanwhile…_

"Heh heh…the moonlight looks lovely toniiiight." Margot slurred, tripping over the hem of her dress. Brom, who thankfully was blessed with quick reflexes, caught her.

"Margot, how many glasses of wine did you drink?" Brom asked.

"One." She hiccupped.

"Just one?" he replied skeptically.

"Er…maybe two." Margot said, swaying, "Wait, wait…make that four."

"Four?!" he exclaimed.

"Is there an echo out here or something?" she let out an obnoxiously loud bark of laughter, apparently thinking she was beyond witty, "My inhibitions are out the window!"

"Oh God in Heaven…" Brom groaned, "You need to go home. Now."

"That would be pleasant." Margot said, grinning up at him.

_In the Van Tassel house…_

Krista awoke at 7 in the morning, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. The party had dragged on until at least 2 AM, and she had to clean every last inch of the house afterwards. She stood up slowly, and stretched her arms, yawning.

"Wake up, Krista." She said to herself, "You can do it."

She went to her wardrobe, and pulled out her uniform. She honestly didn't mind wearing it. Unlike other maids, Krista had a very pleasing figure. The outfit accentuated her tiny waist, comely hips, and generous bosom that she had attained over puberty. She pulled on her black slippers, and combed her blonde curls to perfection. A little blush on her cheeks and she was ready and raring (well, not quite) to go.

She quietly went down the stairs and into the kitchen to start breakfast for the family. She was well into making eggs when she heard a small noise behind her. She put down the egg she was about to crack, and peered into the dining room. Ichabod was sitting at the table, reading a leather-bound notebook.

"Good morning, Mr. Crane." She greeted him as cheerfully as she could.

"Good morning to you, as well, Krista." He replied, closing his notebook, "Why are you up this early?"

"I could ask you the same question." She teased, "As you can see, I have to make breakfast. Master Van Tassel is usually quite ravenous after a good night's rest."

He stood up, "Do you need any assistance? I've cooked for myself for many years."

"No, no, no." she shook her head, "Please, it is my duty to cook for the family and their guests. Please continue with whatever you were doing. I will not bother you anymore."

"Well, if you're absolutely sure…" he sat back down.

"Breakfast will be ready in another 15 minutes or so." Krista then disappeared back into the kitchen. She went into the pantry to fetch a container of milk and a bag of flour.

When she arrived back in the kitchen, Ichabod was there.

"Mr. Crane, I told you I didn't need help. I insist." She said firmly, brushing past him to open the cabinet where they stored the glasses.

She reached for a glass on a higher shelf, and struggled a bit, because after all, she was quite short, and these cabinets happened to be made for taller people.

"And you do not need help now?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Alright, maybe I do. Can you please…?" she pointed up at the glass. He reached it with perfect ease, and handed it to her.

"Thank you very much." She began to pour milk into the glasses.

"You're welcome." He was silent for a long while, and Krista began to think he had left the room, but suddenly he said, "I don't like the way Mr. Van Tassel is treating you."

"What has given you reason to think that?" she inquired, setting the milk on the counter.

"He has a party way into the night, and then makes you clean everything." He ticked it off on his fingers, "He then expects you to get up and make breakfast. You have not even had the proper amount of sleep."

"I will be fine, Mr. Crane, there is no reason to worry about me. I do this often." She gave him a weary smile, "They pay me well, they feed me, clothe me, give me shelter…all they ask in return is that I tidy up a bit."

"Servitude isn't right." He persisted.

"Mr. Crane, this is my duty. Do you not have a duty as Constable in New York City? You are paid to do things that you sometimes do not wish to do. Is that not servitude?" Krista shot at him before she could stop herself.

Ichabod blinked a few times, "You're right. I never really thought of things that way."

There was a silence, but it was broken by Krista, "I apologize for contradicting you."

"And I apologize for quarreling with you." He said, "I am sort of prone to contradicting people myself. I deal with lawyers and judges often."

"Do you enjoy living in New York City?" Krista asked, going into the dining room.

He followed her, "Well, I've been there for quite a few years now. There is so much crime and cruelty, and it can be frightening at times, but it's home."

"This place must be a change for you, then." She said, "Nothing really that exciting happens here." When he gave her a skeptical look, she added quickly, "With the exception of the Headless Horseman business!"

"It's different, I'll give you that." He said with a nonchalant shrug, "But it's a good kind of different."

"Why would you say that?" Krista was curious.

Ichabod looked up at the ceiling, apparently in thought, "Well, the people are so much more interesting, so full of…" He caught her eye, "…mystery."

She flushed, looking down at the table and smoothing the tablecloth, "I see."

She gestured to the table, "Sit down. I will bring you breakfast."

"That isn't necessary. I'll get it." He began to go into the kitchen.

Krista was beginning to get exceedingly frustrated, "Mr. Crane, please! I am the maid; it is my job to serve you!" Without thinking, she grabbed his forearm to halt him.

He did stop, and he stared at her for a moment, "Alright."

She released her grip, and exhaled, "Thank you."

When she passed by him to enter the kitchen, he touched her shoulder lightly, "No, thank you, Krista."

She smiled, "My pleasure."

Ichabod removed his hand, and she caught a glimpse of it. It had many small, circular imprints embedded into his skin. It looked like it had initially been very painful. He saw her staring, and opened his mouth to explain. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by Baltus entering the dining room, shadowed by his wife and daughter.

"Good morning, all!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Good day to you, Van Tassels." Ichabod bowed.

"Is breakfast prepared, Krista?" Baltus turned to her.

She nodded, "Of course. Almost done, sir. It will be out soon."

She disappeared into the kitchen.

After breakfast had finished, Krista began to clean up. Mrs. Van Tassel and Katrina left, but not without Katrina giving the Constable a longing glance. Baltus stayed behind, and pulled Ichabod aside. Krista happened to overhear their conversation.

"Are you beginning your investigations today?" her master asked.

"Yes." Ichabod replied.

"Well, I think it would be helpful to acquire a horse, correct? You will need a quicker means of transportation than just yourself."

"That would be helpful." Mr. Crane said, "Who should I see about this?"

"Thomas Killian, he is the stable master of this town. You'll find him in his home down the way. He is married to the town midwife." Baltus explained.

"Thank you, Mr. Van Tassel. Your generous assistance is greatly appreciated." Ichabod bowed his head, "Good day to you."

"And to you, as well, Constable." Baltus returned the gesture, "Well, I must be off. Many things to do in so very little time."

"I couldn't agree more." Ichabod mused. Baltus then exited, leaving Ichabod and Krista alone in the dining room.

He turned to her, "Krista, I…"

"There is no need to explain if you don't wish to, Mr. Crane." Krista said quickly, "I should not have been staring. It was very impolite of me."

"There isn't much to explain, anyway." He looked down at his hands, "I don't even remember how I got them. I can't help feeling that the memory of their acquirement is something I've been repressing for a very long while."

She put down the rag she had been holding, and went over to him. She took his hand, and gazed down at it curiously.

Krista touched his palm gently, pressing her forefinger into one of the imprints, "I can't say I've ever seen anything like them." She looked up into his eyes, her nearly-grey a deep contrast his nearly-black, "Maybe it will come back to you someday."

"Yes." He said, sounding a little breathless, "Maybe."

He slowly pulled his hand away, "I'm afraid I must be going. I also have duties to attend to. I shall see you later."

"Good-bye!" she called as he left the room. She heard the front door close, and she said quietly to herself, "And please be careful."


	3. Death

**A/N: I don't own. The end.**

Margot Van Dienn awoke to a pounding head and a nauseated stomach. She unsteadily grabbed the pitcher of water by her bedside and took a swig to cleanse the funny taste from her mouth. 'That was some party.' Margot said to herself, massaging her temple to try and ease the ache.

This wasn't her first hangover and it was certainly not going to be her last. If Margot was ever at a party with a certain Mr. Brom Van Brunt she suddenly got the urge to get most splendidly drunk. Mostly because watching Brom and Katrina fawn over each other made her want to wretch.

So, by having a few glasses of wine (for poor Margot had very little tolerance for alcohol) she was at least able to mildly enjoy herself.

At least Brom had walked her home. Margot had the distinct feeling that had she been left to her own devices she would probably have passed out in the streets. And with that murderer or Headless Horseman or whatever it was wandering about that could have been deadly. "I should probably go thank him." Margot mused.

She decided that she would get herself dressed, nick some food from the kitchen, and go talk to Brom. Hopefully she hadn't embarrassed herself beyond all hope while she was drunk. With a cringe the blue-eyed socialite hauled her hung-over body out of bed.

Making her way to her armoire, Margot blindly pulled out a simple blue frock that complimented her eyes and pulled it over her plump figure. The neckline exposed some of her generous bosom, but that really was one of the perks of that outfit. She shook out her chestnut colored hair and pulled it into a loose bun similar to the one she had worn last night, with a few tendrils of hair framing her face.

After looking in her mirror and deciding that she looked presentable, Margot darted to the kitchen and grabbed a piece of bread to eat on the short walk to Brom's.

Her mother was out as she often was, socializing with the other women of Sleepy Hollow. Margot didn't have to worry about troubling her father either, because he had died when she was a child. And the servants knew not to bother Margot after she had been drinking after a nasty incident where she threw a pitcher of water into the wall, narrowly missing one of them.

The streets of Sleepy Hollow were less crowded than usual with many people staying inside for fear of the murderer. Margot was nervous but reasoned that since most of the deaths had occurred at night, she would be safe.

Margot didn't even have to walk to the Van Brunt's home to find Brom. He was mounted on his black stallion and riding the path towards the forest. 'Why on earth is he going there?' She asked herself curiously. Gathering up her skirts, the brunette darted after him. "Brom!" called Margot, "Brom, wait!"

The brown eyed man reined in his horse in surprise. "Margot?" He blinked. "What are you doing out here?" His long brown hair was worn in a horsetail at the nape of his neck. A coat of doe-skinned color velvet covered his arms while deep brown breeches and black boots were on his well-muscled legs. He was a vision of male perfection in Margot's eyes. But for some reason he seemed concerned that she was outside. Whatever was that about?

"That seems an odd question to ask." She replied in puzzlement. "I was looking for you."

"Oh?" Brom raised his eyebrow in bemusement.

"I wanted to, to apologize for my presumably frightful behavior yesterday." Margot said with a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I certainly hope I wasn't a burden to you." She nervously wound her hands in the skirts of her dress.

Brom chuckled in his easy-going way. "No trouble at all. In fact you were a bit more interesting than that party was."

The woman sighed in relief. "So I didn't make a complete fool of myself then?"

"No." He shook his head before adding wryly, "But I will be watching to see how much you drink at the next party. I'd hate to see someone take advantage of you because you were inebriated." Brom's smile made Margot's stomach feel as if it was doing a raucous jig. How did he always managed to make her so giddy?

But his smile soon faded. "I must be on my way." At her questioning glance, the man continued, "The murderer struck again last night. Jonathon Masbath was found dead in the forest not an hour ago."

Margot paled. "Jonathon's dead? Oh, poor young Masbath!" Jonathon had a young son of the same name a few years younger than she. The younger Masbath had lost his mother a few years back, and now he had lost his father too. "Does he know?"

Solemnly Brom nodded. "We won't let him see the body. The Magistrate fears it might scare the poor lad too badly." He bit his lip in thought. "Would you mind maybe sitting with him for awhile? I know you are wonderful with all the younglings at gatherings, do you think you could?"

How could Margot resist the pleading in his beautiful amber brown eyes? "Of course." She replied quickly, "Anything I can do to help."

Satisfied that she would do as she said, Brom turned to ride back into the forest. "Brom!" She called desperately as his stallion churned up the muddy streets. When he looked back at her in confusion, Margot said quietly, "Be safe."

He nodded and sent a small smile her way before repeating in turn, "Be safe."

With that, Margot let out a small sigh and began heading to the Van Garrett's carriage house where the Masbaths resided. It wasn't all that difficult to find the newly orphaned Jonathon Masbath. He was curled in a horse blanket struggling not to let his crying be noticeable to anyone else and failing miserably. "Jonathon?" Margot said softly, "It's Margot Van Dienn."

The dark-haired boy raised his head with a small sniffle. "Wha, what can I do for you, miss?" He asked with a hiccup. His dark eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

"Nothing, sweetheart." Margot said with a gentle smile. "I've just come to see that you were alright. Well, as alright as you could be." She took a seat in the hay beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. It was devastating to see how painfully thin his shoulders were as they shook. "Oh, Jonathon." She whispered, holding him tightly to her breast, "It's going to be alright. We're not going to let anything happen to you."

At that the miserable young boy began to cry again, letting his sorrow out in sobs. Margot held him as her own mother had held her when she had cried until his tears had slowed to naught but a trickle. She offered him a handkerchief which he took with a manly dignity. He was going to be fine. "Now, how about we go see the Van Tassels? My friend Krista will look after you there until we find somewhere for you to live." Margot asked the boy.

"Thanks." Jonathon Masbath said quietly as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Let's go."

The blue-eyed woman smiled as she shook the hay off of her skirt and began escorting the orphaned boy to the Van Tassel household. Margot strode up to the front door; the perfect image of a society woman going calling. She rapped on the door and within moments, Krista poked her head out of the door.

"Hello Margot." She said cheerfully. The blonde woman spotted the young Masbath boy and smiled warmly at him. "And young Masbath, what can we do for you?" She invited the two inside and showed them into the parlor. The brunette took a seat on the small sofa and motioned for the hesitant Jonathon to come over.

"Jonathon, sweetling, why don't you go in the kitchen and find something to eat?" She needed no more to encourage a growing teenage boy to eat.

When he was gone, "Could you take care of Jonathon for a few days?" Margot asked her friend. "He has nowhere else to go. I don't want him in that drafty carriage house by himself."

Krista smiled to herself. Margot was definitely in her maternal mind-set; she got that way around younger children. "Of course." She replied, "I don't think the Van Tassels will mind at all." She looked sad. "Poor thing. Losing both your parents is hard."

Margot grabbed her friend's hand and gave it a squeeze. "That's why I knew I could trust you with his care." She smiled gently. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my mother is probably fretting as to my whereabouts." She stood from the sofa and ducked into the kitchen where Jonathon sat at the table eating a chunk of bread and an apple. "I'll come check on you again, Jon." Whispered the older girl as she gave the boy another hug.

"Bye Margot." Jon smiled weakly through a mouthful of apple.

She smiled back at him and made her way to the front door. "I'll be seeing you Krista." Margot called. She made her way home feeling that she had done a good deed.

After another hour or two, Constable Crane came through the door, looking vaguely nauseous. Krista, who was currently located in the kitchen, peered around the doorframe, "Hello, Mr. Crane! How did your investigations go?"

"Interesting." He managed to choke out, collapsing into an armchair.

Krista, apprehensive because of his state, rushed over to him, "What happened?"

"Nothing. Just some very puzzling details about the decapitation." Ichabod said, taking a shuddering breath, "The details have rendered me very confused. These beheadings are unlike anything I've ever seen."

"How so?"

"The wound was just...incredible." his voice was rising with excitement, "It looked as if the Horseman's blade was on fire when he chopped off the head – " He paused when he saw Krista gesturing toward the kitchen.

"What is it?" he inquired, standing up, "Who is in there?"

"Jonathon Masbath's child, who is now _all alone_ in this world." She hissed, "I suggest you spare him all these observations." Krista said, also trying to cover the fact that she was becoming a bit queasy herself.

"Oh." He said simply, flushing from embarrassment, "Sorry..."

"It's alright." She said dismissively, "Please remember that children are very vulnerable when upset."

"By all means, Krista, I know what losing a parent is like." He said, furtively glancing at his hands again. Krista began to think that those wounds had something to do with his parents, but thought it way too imprudent to mention.

"Will you be attending the funeral?" Krista asked, abruptly straying from the subject.

"I don't see why it would be necessary for me to attend. I'm not a part of this community, and I did not know the man personally..." Ichabod said, avoiding her gaze.

"Well, it would be polite. And it would certainly seem rude and suspicious if you did not go." Krista pressed, "You don't have to be in the front, just go." She studied the floor, "Plus, the Van Tassels and I will be there..."

"I suppose I could go for a little while." He said after a moment's hesitation.

Krista smiled. Ah, how the art of persuasion worked to her advantage.

A few days later came the funeral for Jonathon Masbath the elder. The entire town of Sleepy Hollow stood out in the cemetery; a sea of black against a grey sky. Most of the women were crying into handkerchiefs or their escorts' shoulders.

Katrina was crying into Brom's shoulder. The handsome man, although saddened by the death of a friend, was still pleased to be offering Katrina some comfort.

Margot was standing with Jonathon the younger, her hands a reassuring presence on his shoulders. The boy stood gravely and watched as his father's coffin was lowered into the ground. She knew it was petty of her to wish that Brom was holding _her_ instead of Katrina. After all, this was a funeral and not a party. But she still wished she could feel his strong hands supporting her. She squeezed Jonathon's shoulders and held back her own tears. Jonathon didn't need her breaking down. He was keeping her sane right then because he was depending on her to stay together.

Krista, being a servant, stood at the back, Ichabod at her side.

Ichabod was also staring bitterly at a certain couple in the front, as well. Krista saw the jealous glare pass through his dark eyes, and thought fast. She needed a distraction. Well, she was at a funeral. She sniffled audibly, and let her tears flow freely down her cheeks.

"Krista..." Ichabod whispered, sympathetic. He was speechless otherwise. He put an arm awkwardly around her shoulder, "It's going to be alright."

When he turned his gaze away from her, Krista could barely conceal her grin.

After the funeral had concluded, the townspeople began to disperse, including the Van Tassels. Krista started to follow the family, but stayed behind when she saw that Ichabod had been pulled aside by the Magistrate.

"Constable?" Magistrate Philipse was asking him.

"Mr. Philipse?" Ichabod asked in return, appearing confused by the Magistrate's presence. The Magistrate glanced around anxiously to see if anyone was eavesdropping in on their conversation. Krista, who had ducked behind a nearby carriage, let out a sigh of relief when he did not notice her.

The Magistrate turned back to Ichabod, "There is something you should know. Jonathon Masbath was not the fourth victim, but the fifth."

"The fifth?" Ichabod's eyes widened.

"Five victims in four graves." The Magistrate repeated. He then saw the Reverend was glaring at him, and scuttled away.

Ichabod surveyed the cemetery, and tried to mentally calculate how what the Magistrate had told him was possible. Krista bit her lip, just as confused as the man she was infatuated with. She then walked out from behind the carriage and up to Ichabod.

"Are you coming, Mr. Crane?" she asked, interrupting his train of thought.

He opened his mouth to answer, but noticed that the younger Masbath and Margot were coming towards them.

"Mister Constable, sir?" Jon asked timidly.

"You are Young Masbath..." Ichabod said in recognition.

"I was young Masbath, but now I am the only one. Masbath at your service, bound to avenge my father." Jon said, voice stronger.

Margot looked shocked at the boy's straightforward approach.

"Well, one-and-only Masbath, I thank you, but I'm sure your mother will need you more than I." Ichabod said gently.

"His mother is in heaven, sir." Margot replied a bit harshly, keeping her hands on young Masbath's shoulders.

"Yes, she has my father now to care for her. But you have no one to serve you, and I am your man, sir." Jonathan said, his tone growing more urgent.

"And a brave man, too, but I cannot be the one to look after you. I am very sorry for your loss, young Mister Masbath." He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and began to walk away. Margot glared at the newcomer as the young boy's face crumpled. She smoothed his hair as he took a seat by his father's grave.

Krista followed him, angry, "Mr. Crane!"

"What?" he asked, exasperated.

"The boy is looking for guidance in these difficult times. How can you deny him? You grew up without a father! You _know_ how it feels!" she pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Um, I..." Ichabod knew he was caught.

"This is your chance to change someone's life. Take it." She snapped as she turned and headed back towards the Van Tassel home.

Ichabod felt it would be wiser not to argue with the woman. He crossed the cemetery back to Jonathon Masbath the elder's grave to find his son and that other woman in the same place as he had left them.

He cleared his throat, unaccustomed to reaching out to others. "Find a place in the Van Tassel's servant quarters. Wake me before dawn. I hope you have a strong stomach." At that, he turned on his heel and began walking away.

Jonathon was absolutely overjoyed. "Thank you sir!" He sprang up and ran after Ichabod with a hearty wave back at Margot as they went.

On the way out of the cemetery, Ichabod ran into the midwife's husband, the man who had given him his horse.

"Mr. Killian..." He said with a gleam in his eyes, "I will need the help you offered." The men and boy walked together out of the cemetery, talking urgently as they went.


	4. Apprentice

**A/N: I'm tired of writing this stuff. But Timmy B is a genius. I don't own these people. Sadly.**

This left Margot at the grave of a friend. She nodded sadly to his headstone and settled herself to say a small prayer. As she finished, she saw a figure moving towards her in the falling dusk.

"Margot, what are you doing out here?" Brom Van Brunt asked her, offering her a hand to pull her upright. She blushed but accepted his hand. It felt so warm and it made her realize how chilled she had become.

She was bemused with her reply. "I believe you asked me that question this morning." But she quickly sobered. "I was with Jon. That newcomer Mr. Crane agreed to take charge of the boy."

Brom was thoughtful. "He did, did he?" His expression soured for a moment, but it was replaced by a look of gratitude. "Margot, I wanted to thank you for taking care of Jon. I knew you would make sure he was taken care of…"

"It was no trouble." Margot demurred. "After all, you had to bring his father back. I wouldn't have the stamina for that." She smiled weakly.

"You obviously have the stamina for motherhood." Brom replied. "I saw you with him at the funeral ceremony." He put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "You could have been his mother today. He probably appreciates it more than he will tell you."

Margot shook her head. "I don't need to be appreciated."

"Well, I appreciate what you did." He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. The cemetery had grown steadily darker and a mist had begun to form. "It's not safe to be out here after dark." Brom said suddenly. He looked at her. "I don't like the idea of you leaving by yourself. Would you permit me to walk you home?"

The woman's eyes glowed excitedly in the twilight. "Only if you wish to, Brom." She said softly. Her heart was racing. Brom was worried about her!

The amber eyed man offered her his arm, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around it. His arm was a solid support for her as they headed down the road back into the town.

"You know Brom," Margot remarked amusedly as they made their way back into the town, "You really don't need to worry yourself about me. I'm a big girl." She grinned. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can." He replied with a poker-straight face. "And you also could drink yourself silly after two glasses of wine."

She nudged him playfully and teased, "And what is the problem with that?"

Brom shrugged. "There's no problem. I am curious though, why all of a sudden do you enjoy drinking?" He studied her closely, "I don't recall you ever touching wine until recently."

"No reason." She replied a little too quickly, her blush barely hidden in the growing dark.

"Come on Margot," he coaxed, "If there is something bothering you I'd like to know. I'd want to help fix whatever is wrong." His concern was evident in his voice. Damn him for being such a wonderful friend.

The brunette was silent. There was no way she could really tell him what was wrong with her. He was Katrina's beau and Katrina was her friend. She couldn't try to dissuade him from her. Besides, she didn't want to lose Brom's friendship because she said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Finally she said quietly, "It's nothing. I just like the taste and it gets to me rather quickly is all." The lie burned in her brain. She never even really tasted the stuff; wine was swallowed so Margot didn't have to feel as heartbroken.

A crow called out hoarsely and in fright Margot gripped Brom's arm tightly. "Sorry about that." She whispered, her heart still fluttering from the scare.

"You're lying." Brom said.

"What?" She said in confusion, "No, truly, I didn't mean to grab onto you like that-"

"I'm not talking about you being afraid and looking to me!" Brom snapped. "There _is_ something wrong and you are just refusing to tell me."

Margot replied hotly, "And what business is it of yours? It's not as though my emotional state is of great concern to you!"

The amber eyed man ran his free hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. "I don't understand why you don't trust me." He said quietly.

Her lower lip began to tremble. How she wanted to just confess! Confess that she drank so she could ignore the fact that he didn't love her! Confess that she wanted to disappoint no one and apologizing was one of the best ways to do so! She couldn't hold in her emotions for much longer. A tear squeezed out of her tightly shut eyes and Margot decided she might as well speak _some_ truth.

"I'm scared." Whispered Margot. "I'm scared of this Horseman. Murdering innocent people and leaving poor Jon an orphan. Killing widows and old men. Who's to say I couldn't be next?" Night had truly fallen by then and the only guide they had through the town were the glowing orbs of street candles. Shadows loomed everywhere and everything had taken on a sinister glare. She shuddered involuntarily. Now she was just scaring herself.

To her surprise, Brom put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them gently. "Is that all?" He gave her a faint smile. "I was afraid it was something serious."

"Why aren't you afraid of the Horseman?" she asked softly, savoring the feel of his body close to hers.

Brom said firmly, "I refuse to let some nightmare scare me like a child in the dark. I have loved ones who depend on me, and I don't plan on letting them get hurt because I was afraid." His amber eyes glinted by the light of the candles in the street lamps with a fierce pride.

"Always the protector..." Margot said half to herself. Then a bit more loudly she added, "You are always looking out for others Brom, including me. When can we return the favor and protect you too?" She tilted her face up to lock her deep blue eyes with his. She tried to show him in one look that she would not ever have him be hurt.

Their eyes remained locked on each other for several moments. Then Brom broke the spell and wiped the stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I don't want anyone to risk their life for me." He said quietly.

They arrived at Margot's door and the lights from the windows cast a warm and friendly glow on the pair. She could hear her mother bustling about and smiled a little. "Would you like to come in?" Margot asked politely. "I would like to offer you a warm cup of tea for escorting me home again."

Brom smiled back at her. With regret in his face he answered, "As much as a warm cup of tea with your mother sounds lovely," At this she giggled, "my own mother is probably frantic. I will see you soon."

As he turned to go, on a brief spurt of daring she grabbed his hand. Softly she whispered, "I would happily risk my life for you, Brom." Without another word, the socialite ducked inside her house. For nearly a minute he stood there in silent bewilderment. Then Brom could hear Mrs. Van Dienn scolding her daughter for being outside after dark and chuckled a little to himself. On the short walk to his home he had quite a bit to think about.

_In the Van Tassel household…_

"Krista?" called Ichabod as he entered the house, tailed by Jon.

She emerged at the top of the stairs, "Oh, you're back. What took you so long?"

"I had some things to discuss with Mr. Killian and young Masbath here." He said, putting a hand on the boy's head.

"I see." Krista said, skeptical.

Ichabod could tell that Krista wasn't buying the story, but continued as he walked up the staircase, "Now, if you will excuse me, I am very tired. I need some sleep." He passed by her, and disappeared into his bedroom before Krista could get a word in edgewise.

Krista fell asleep around midnight, but was aroused not too long after when she heard footsteps padding across the wood floor. She sat stock-still for a moment, frightened. Was it the Horseman? No, she would've heard him come into the house…but who was it? She tip-toed to her door, and slowly opened it.

There were two of them, she could see. Whoever they were, they were heading for the front door. She hurried down the stairs, eager to catch the intruder.

"Krista?" one of the people asked. When she got closer to the person, she realized it was just Ichabod and the other was young Masbath.

"Damn it all to hell." She breathed, leaning against the grandfather clock that was located near the door, "Thank God it's you. I was worried that…wait." She narrowed her eyes, "Where in God's name are you going?"

"Out. Go back to sleep."

He turned to leave, but Krista stood adamantly in his path.

"Don't tell me that you are leaving this house in the dead of night to further your investigations! You know as well as I do that the Horseman only attacks at night!" Krista exclaimed, "You are being completely irresponsible by taking Jon with you! He's just a boy!"

Ichabod raised his eyebrows, "I think you may be a little hysterical. Jon, go outside and wait for me. I will be there in a moment."

"Yes, sir." The boy obeyed.

Krista stared in disbelief, "How dare you blatantly disregard me! I cannot let you leave without knowing you will return safely. I don't know what I'd do if…if…"

"If…?" Ichabod leaned forward expectantly.

Krista's eyes filled with fresh tears, "If you were hurt."

A tear fell silently from her eye, and he caught it with his thumb. He pulled her into a tight embrace, "I promise you that I won't get hurt."

He rocked her back and forth for a moment, stroking her hair tenderly.

"I must go now." He said softly.

"Alright." she said, releasing him.

"Don't wait up for us." Ichabod said as he exited. He cast a quick glance at her, and gave her a reassuring smile, which she had no choice but to return half-heartedly.

"Good-bye." She whispered.

After they had departed, Krista sat herself on the couch in the parlor. She refused to let herself sleep while they were gone, but eventually her eyes drooped, her anxious thoughts lessened…she had fallen asleep.

She awoke to someone shaking her gently.

"Miss Krista?" a voice asked.

"Ye…" she yawned, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "Yes?" Her eyes fully opened and focused on young Masbath.

"JON!" she cried, and crushed him to her bosom, "Thank God! You're not dead!"

She let him go, and he smoothed his clothes, not rumpled by the near crushing of his fragile rib cage, "Of course not. Mr. Crane and I were perfectly safe."

"Oh." She then felt ridiculous for making a spectacle of herself, "Where is Mr. Crane now?"

"Upstairs. He wanted to wake you, but he thought it best to let you sleep. I think he is practicing the aforementioned action right now." Jon explained, and shyly asked, "Can I trouble you for something to eat?"

"Of course, help yourself." Krista ushered him into the kitchen, and threw open the pantry door. She put various fruits and a loaf of bread in his hands, "Is this good?"

"This is plenty more than necessary, madam." He said, gazing down at the food as if he'd never seen such a quantity in his short life. He offered a sprig of grapes to her, "Would you care for some?"

"Oh! Thank you." Krista took a few, and sat down next to the boy.

They ate in contented silence.

However, the silence didn't last long, "If you want my humble opinion, I think Mr. Crane fancies you."

Krista swallowed the grape she had been mindlessly chewing, and nearly choked on it. She hit herself in the chest with her fist until she swallowed the last bit of grape, "My goodness. What influenced you to think this, Jon?"

"I don't know, actually." Jon admitted, "It's just a feeling, I suppose. It's the way he looks at you. He worried about you constantly all night. It was becoming a bit annoying, if you ask me."

"Well, friendship sometimes can be confused with love." Krista struggled for an excuse.

Jon gave her a look of utmost scrutiny, "Do _you_ fancy _him_, Miss Krista?"

"That is not a matter for you and I to discuss openly!" Krista exclaimed, flustered beyond compare, "I don't have a response to that."

"If you say so, Miss Krista." Jon said, finishing his last mouthful of apple.

Krista abruptly changed the subject, "Where are you and Mr. Crane off to today?"

"Oh, we're going to the Doctor's." Jon said, disposing his apple core into the sink, "Mr. Crane thinks he has a lead on something with the Widow Winship."

"Really? And what would that be?"

"_That_ is not a matter for you and I to discuss openly." Jon said ironically, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Krista sulked. She was not fond of having her words thrown back at her, "Fine. Don't tell me. I'm not interested anyway."

She stood up, and began to clean off the last contents of her and Jon's food.

"Do you need any help?" Jon offered.

"No, it's alright." Krista shook her head, "Goodness, less than two days and you're already turning into Mr. Crane."

Someone cleared their throat from behind her. She turned around, and came face-to-face (well, more like face-to-chest, since he was quite a bit taller) with Ichabod.


	5. Discovery

**A/N: Cliffhanger. Lol. I hate when people do that to me.**

"Oh, good morning." She said brightly, trying to conceal her apparent humiliation.

"Good morning." He replied, "The burning sensation in my ears woke me up."

Jon and Krista exchanged a furtive glance.

"I'm deeply sorry about that." Krista said, biting her lip.

He laughed, "I'm just teasing you, Krista. Don't worry about me. I had to wake myself up, anyway. Many things to attend to."

"So I've heard." She said, glancing askance at Jon.

"Yes…" Ichabod said uneasily, throwing Jon a glare that said, 'What did you tell her?'

"Please don't blame Jon for being talkative." Krista said quickly, "I am more at fault. I was prying."

Ichabod sighed, "Krista, must you always apologize for everything? You don't need to."

"Yes, I must." She replied, "I am not fond of conflict, especially if it is caused by my foolishness."

He said nothing in response, deducing it to be pointless to disagree with her, "I see. Well, I'm sorry to be leaving you, but…"

"I know. You have to investigate." She said, nodding.

"…yes." He said, blinking a few times before following Jon out of the kitchen.

Krista began to wash the dishes when Ichabod poked his head back into the room, "I have something to ask you."

She turned, "What would that be?"

"Are you the only servant in this house? It seems that you do all the chores around here…" he said, looking concerned.

"Well, there is another girl who works here, but she's always out dallying when she's supposed to be here." Krista said, somewhat bitterly, "Her name's Sarah. I see her with that doctor more frequently than is definitely decent."

He raised an eyebrow, "Hmm. Thank you for clearing that up." He then disappeared from the entryway.

About an hour passed by without much interruption. Krista finished the dishes, swept the house, and just generally tidied up. This amount of work typically took her much longer, but she was feeling happier than usual today. As a matter of fact, she'd been more contented than ever with Mr. Crane here.

She collapsed onto the couch, bored. She lay there for a moment or two before an idea illuminated. Maybe she should pay Margot a visit.

Krista straightened the cushions on the couch before grabbing her coat and setting off for Margot's house. She passed the doctor's residence, and halted. Mr. Van Tassel, the Magistrate, the Doctor, Reverend Steenwyck, and the notary were all huddled together outside the house, whispering anxiously about something.

"He's on to us!" the Doctor hissed, "How would he have known?"

The Reverend looked worried, "I have no idea. No one told him about her…"

Baltus and the notary nodded in agreement, but the Magistrate, as Krista suspected, was mum through the whole conversation.

Margot's house, as it were, was not more than two houses down from the Doctor's. Krista knocked on the door, and Margot's mother answered.

"Hello, dear." She said cheerfully, "What brings you here?"

"I am here to visit Miss Van Dienn. Is she at home?" Krista inquired.

"Yes, she is. Please come in, dear." Mrs. Van Dienn stepped aside to let Krista enter.

Margot's house was that of an archetypal socialite's. Expensive sculptures were scattered throughout the living room, and famous paintings lined the walls. It was quite a bit like the Van Tassel's, but not nearly as large or elaborate. It was warm and inviting, and had an air of comfort surrounding it.

Margot rushed down the staircase, "Krista!"

Krista smiled, "Margot."

"Why are you here?" Margot ushered Krista into an armchair, and yelled toward the dining room, "Mother, get us lunch!"

"Hold on a moment!" her mother shouted in return.

Margot sat on the couch next to Krista's armchair, "Explain yourself."

"I was done with the housework, and I felt like coming to chat with you." Krista said as Mrs. Van Dienn handed her a piece of chicken, bread, and a glass of apple cider, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Mrs. Van Dienn beamed, and turned to Margot, "I'm off. I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Alright." Margot waved her mother farewell.

She twisted to face Krista, "Now, is this all about a certain person?"

Krista blushed, embarrassed, "Yes, mostly."

"Ohhh, do tell!" Margot exclaimed.

"Well…I was talking to Jon today, and he said that…" Krista flushed an even deeper shade of red, "…he thought Mr. Crane fancied me."

Margot rolled her eyes, "Of course he does. It's SO obvious, Krista."

"Why is it so obvious to everyone but me?" Krista wondered aloud.

"Because you're silly, that's why." Margot poked Krista's arm playfully, "I – "

A great deal of shouting erupted from outside. Margot and Krista jumped up, and ran outside to see what all the fuss was about.

Citizens of Sleepy Hollow were crowded at the front of the Doctor's house. Krista pushed through the people, and gasped at what she saw. Ichabod had emerged from the house, covered in blood.

Krista felt faint. Her knees were buckling under her. She let out a strangled scream, and fell to the ground.

"Krista!" Margot and Ichabod cried simultaneously.

They both ran to her, but Ichabod arrived there first.

"Krista, Krista!" he shook her.

Her eyes opened, and she focused on him, "What happened to you?"

He put a finger on her mouth, "I'm perfectly fine. The blood is the widow's, not mine."

Krista exhaled with a shudder, "Thank God."

He helped her up, and led her over to Margot, who pulled her into an embrace. He then turned to the town elders and Baltus, "I am…finished."

"What in God's name have you done to her?!" the Reverend shouted.

"Gentlemen, we are dealing with a madman." Ichabod said.

"What did you find out, Constable?" the Magistrate asked.

"The widow was with child." Ichabod said triumphantly.

A few members of the crowd gasped, shocked. People were murmuring amongst each other. Krista was just as stunned.

"Oh my God." She whispered.

"What of it?" Snarled the Doctor, "She should have been left to make her peace with God and not cut to bits by the Constabulary!"

Ichabod stood his ground, not willing to be cowed by the other man. He said calmly, "The sword was thrust into the womb and no farther. A symbolic murder. We are dealing with a madman."

The crowd surrounding the Doctor's exploded into conversation. What could be done to stop these murders? Who was next? Why was this happening?

Margot hugged Krista and whispered, "Are you alright now?"

"Yes I'm fine." The blonde demurred, not wishing to draw any further attention to herself. "I should be heading back, the Van Tassels might be wondering where I am. I'm just glad Ichabod is alright." And with that, she set off.


	6. Attraction

**A/N: I like this CHAPTER. I like ROMANCE. YEAH.**

Margot shook her head amusedly. Sometimes her friend could be so thick-headed when it came to men. She sighed to herself and began heading towards her own home. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Brom carrying a cloak and heading towards the stables in quite a hurry. The brunette frowned. 'What is that man up to this time?' Margot asked herself.

As stealthily as she could in her skirts, she began to follow him. When he entered the stable, she positioned herself just outside the door so she could eavesdrop on whatever it was Mr. Brom Van Brunt was up to.

"I've got it." She heard Brom declare excitedly.

"Wonderful!" Now it was the voice of Theodore (one of Brom's best friends).

"I wish I could see the look on that Constable Crane's face." Glenn, another friend of Brom's, said longingly. "Maybe he'll get so scared he'll go back to New York."

"Shh!" Hissed Theodore. "We don't want anyone to hear us!"

"I'd rather not get caught." Brom cautioned, "That would get us in terrible trouble."

"Brom?" Glenn asked, "Do you think there really is a Headless Horseman?"

There was a long pause. "No. I don't believe in nightmares. Now come on, help me get this on."

Margot puzzled over what was being said before the jumbled pieces of conversation put themselves together in her mind. They were going to dress like the Horseman to frighten Ichabod Crane! They were stooping to being nothing but bullies!

She couldn't stay quiet any longer. Shoving the door open and shut behind her, Margot fixed the three young men with her deadliest glare. "I certainly hope you're proud of yourselves!" She hissed, "About half of Sleepy Hollow has probably heard your little plan. What on Earth were you thinking?"

The three were suddenly the picture of rebuked school boys caught in a prank, shuffling their feet and hanging their heads. "It was just for a bit of fun." Grumbled Theodore.

"No one was going to get hurt." Added Glenn. "We just wanted to give that Crane a spooking, that's all."

"So what?" Margot snapped. "Did it occur to you that if you were caught then you would be blamed for the murders?" The guilty looks on their faces answered for them. "And still you wished to do this!" Her cheeks were flushed with vexation. "I can't believe that you three would stoop to bullying! What on earth has Mr. Crane ever done to you to deserve this?"

Brom protested, "He's supposed solving murders and he keeps resorting to fairy tales! He can't be trusted!" His frown betrayed an unspoken reason; his jealousy.

"I don't care. But I do swear on my family's graves that if you even think about going through with your stupid little scheme, not only will I inform your parents and families, but the Magistrate and town officials as well!"

The men were speechless. "Margot," Glenn said weakly, "You are bluffing."

"What if she's not?" Theodore swallowed nervously. "You wouldn't turn us in, would you Margot?"

Her blue eyes crackled icily. "I would."

Brom opened his mouth but was unable to speak for a moment. Finally he managed, "She is right. This was a stupid and childish idea." She was surprised. Margot had been expecting sullenness and rude murmurs, not easy consent! "I'm sorry we upset you, Margot." He continued, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I promise we will not go through with this. Now, how can we prove to you that we can be trusted to keep our words?" His expression was one of genuine regret.

She smiled warmly at her friends. "Escort me home?" Margot offered. The three accepted without much fuss and proceeded to tell Margot about a previous adventure they had had a few days before.

The woman was quite pleased with herself. She had just prevented what could have been a total disaster. The ideas men got when jealousy got to their brains...

The three men escorted her right to the threshold of her doorway. She had an idea and asked, "Since you've all been so good about my scolding you, can I offer you something to eat?" This was met with thunderous approval and any misgivings Theodore, Glenn, and Brom may have had disappeared.

After requesting some tea, wine, biscuits, and fruit from the servants, she joined them in her parlor and enjoyed a lovely afternoon of socializing with the men of Sleepy Hollow.

Her mother returned home and noticed her small crowd with silent amusement. She slipped quietly upstairs and left the appreciative group alone.

As the hours grew late, Margot's guests regretfully returned to their own homes and families for supper. She told her mother nothing of her friends' plan but instead of the lovely conversations she had had.

The thrill she had gotten from talking to Brom! It made her cheeks flush red even thinking about it! The more they talked the more he had grown warmer and interested in their conversation. She had proved to him time and again that she was not some mindless porcelain doll but an intelligent and independent woman.

Margot contentedly dozed off to sleep on her parlor couch while re-playing the afternoon in her head. With a smile, her mother shook her gently and half-carried the not quite awake young woman to bed. Margot's blue eyes drifted shut with a certain amber-eyed man on her mind.

Krista, however, lay wide awake. She glanced at the clock in her room. Only 4:30 AM? She had tossed and turned more times than she could count, and now feared that she had insomnia. But after all the day's emotionally stressful events, she told herself that it was reasonable to be restless.

She quietly got out of bed, and trudged down the stairs. She glanced at the kitchen counter, noticing that a pitcher of water was already there. It made her a bit nervous. Who was up at this hour? The Horseman? Wait. A Horseman is dead. He can't have water. She pressed her palm to her forehead, inwardly groaning at her stupidity and irrational fears.

Krista then sensed a presence. She turned quickly, and saw a faint light coming from the drawing room. She walked cautiously across the floor-boards, being especially careful not to make a sound. She cringed when one of the boards creaked loudly, but kept going. She peered surreptitiously into the drawing room, and observed Katrina, who was lounging on the couch and reading a small blue book.

Krista recognized it as one of the deceased Mrs. Van Tassel's books. But something was strange about the book. The only time Krista had ever seen it was long ago, maybe 2 years past. She had been cleaning out the Van Tassel's storage room (a task she completely loathed beyond any comprehension), and happened upon a box of Mrs. Van Tassel's old things; clothes, jewelry, and other assorted other things of that nature. That blue book stood out in her mind. It had been called, "A Compendium of Spells, Charms, and Devices of the Spirit World." A witchcraft manual. She clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her gasp. Why was Katrina reading about _witchcraft_?

Krista heard footsteps behind her, and slipped stealthily away into the shadows of another room adjacent to the drawing room.

The footsteps belonged to Mr. Crane. She wondered vaguely why he was also up at such an ungodly hour.

"What are you doing, Miss Van Tassel?" he asked.

Katrina shoved her book under a couch cushion, "Reading."

"Why do you need to hide that book from me?" Ichabod inquired, curious.

Miss Van Tassel sighed, "It was my mother's. My father doesn't like to be reminded of her. She died two years ago, midwinter, of a brain fever."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Krista noted with some relief that his tone was somewhat detached, disinterested, "I saw it written in the family tree in the Bible your father gave me."

"The nurse who cared for her is now Lady Van Tassel."

"Really?" Now his voice climbed higher with intrigue, "Something else I might ask…why does no one mention that the Van Tassels are related to the Van Garretts?"

"Why? Because everyone here is related some way or another." Katrina said matter-of-factly, as if he was supposed to assume that on his own. She gazed out the window at the sun beginning to rise, "This land was Van Garrett land. It was given to my father long ago, when I was just a mere child."

She stood up, and crossed the room, musing, "The Van Garretts were the richest family in this town. The elder Van Garrett took pity on my father, and set him up with a little cottage on the outskirts of town. My father prospered, and here we are today…I remember that place dearly…can I show it to you?"

"Yes. That would be most helpful in my investigations." He said.

Katrina went back over to the couch, and pulled out the book she had been reading. She handed it to him, "Take this."

Krista saw Ichabod's face blanch slightly at the title, "I have no use for it."

"Are you so certain of everything?" Katrina teased, "Please keep it close to your heart. It'll ward off any evil that may come to you."

"Are you so certain of that?" Ichabod said under his breath, bitter.

Krista rushed up the back staircase as Mr. Crane strode out of the drawing room, so as to make sure he didn't see her eavesdropping. She heard his footsteps on the wooden floor stop, and she halted at the top of the staircase. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to make herself as invisible as humanly possible. She even held her breath. When she heard the footsteps finally start again, she exhaled with relief.

Krista then turned, only to find Ichabod standing right behind her.

"Mr. Cr-!" she began to exclaim out of pure surprise, but he had quickly pressed his hand over her mouth, pushing her back against the wall. His body was in extremely close proximity to hers; she flushed a lovely shade of scarlet, and thanked God it was too dark for him to see it.

"Be quiet." He said softly, "I don't want to wake the whole house."

"I thought you were downstairs…" she whispered.

"That must have been Katrina you heard." He said, "What, may I ask, are you doing up at this late hour, Miss Krista?"

"Getting a glass of water." She lied hurriedly, too hurriedly. _Damn it_, she cursed inwardly, _God damn it_.

"I see." He said with a smirk, "And you also stopped by to listen to me and Katrina's conversation, as well?"

She hung her head, caught, "Yes. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Crane, really I am."

"It's alright." He said, "You know, Krista, you obviously have an insatiable curiosity. You are not as innocent as you seem."

"Do I really seem that innocent?" she retorted, indignant, "I can be bold if I want to, Mr. Crane. You're the one who seems less courageous, if you ask me."

"Oh really?" he said, "If I was not so courageous, would I do this?"

With that, he kissed her firmly on the lips. Krista's eyes widened in shock for a moment, but she quickly relaxed, and kissed him back with full force. His tongue pressed at her lips, and she opened them to invite it in. She raked her hands through his hair, his hands slowly caressed her curves…all she could think about was bringing him back to her room, right now, right here.

"No." she said as he kissed her.

He stopped, "What?"

"This shouldn't be happening." She said, "We can't let lust get the better of us."

She tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed her hand, intertwining his fingers tightly with hers, "Why not, Krista? We both know how we feel."

"But, Katrina…" she struggled for an excuse.

"What about her?" he asked, impatient. His eyes lit up with realization, "Oh, Krista…I don't have feelings for her, none at all. I have been attracted to you since the moment I saw you."

"But she kissed you…"

"And? It didn't mean anything to me. This kiss right here, that means something. That meant everything. When I kissed you, I felt alive again. I swear it. I want to make you happy, Krista, please let me." His eyes pierced her own; she knew he wasn't lying.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane, but we just…can't." she said softly, trying to fight back her tears, "You're such a good man, and I'm a lowly maid. I don't deserve what you have to offer me."

"Why do you let yourself think that?" he said harshly, pulling her back to him, "Are these people here so unkind as to make you believe you're worthless? Krista, you aren't at all worthless. Someone like Katrina, who has no moral values and has a complete ineptitude and naïveté, she's worthless to society. You, however, are intelligent and you are 10 times, 100 times, a thousand times more beautiful than Katrina will ever be."

Krista opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off again with another kiss to her mouth. She resisted, but it didn't go over so well. He pushed her against the wall, running his fingers up and down all of her body, aggressive and passionate. Krista felt trapped; she knew this was wrong, but oh, it felt so good to let all the tension loose. But was this a mistake?

She felt his hands start to go up her dress, and she pushed them away, "No."

"No what?" he asked as he kissed her neck.

"I can't do this." It took all of her might just to say that, she collapsed into his arms, "We can't do this."

His face was etched with disappointment, "You don't care about me?"

Her solemn face slowly widened into a grin, "I'm sorry…I didn't make myself clear. We just can't do this right now. But the Van Tassels have a party at the Steenwycks' tomorrow. And that means we'll be…" she grazed her lips against his, "…completely…" she moved her lips to his ear, "…alone."

And without looking back at him, she strode away, leaving him very shocked and excited at the same time.

"I bid you goodnight, Mr. Crane." She said over her shoulder.

Her confidence stayed until she entered her room. Once her door was safely locked behind her, she slumped to the floor, exhaling a sigh of relief.

How could she let herself say those things? Where did that come from? Her blood was pumping and her heart was pounding mercilessly in her chest. She had made a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. Oh God, what had just happened? They were only friends this morning, and now this.

Not that she didn't want it, of course. She had been hoping for this moment since the moment he had walked in the door. Krista thought herself very young and very sheltered; she knew nothing of caressing or really anything of the bedroom nature. Her face turned red at the mention of it. She pressed her hands to her face, still inhaling and exhaling heavily.

But when he had touched her, it had felt so wonderful, more wonderful than anything she had ever experienced. Now she had gotten herself immersed in some serious damage. She couldn't make love to him and she knew it deep down. She wanted to so very badly, but her morals were going to stop her.

Damn her conscience. Damn it.


End file.
